The 53rd Hunger Games
by TheChuckles
Summary: The start of what I intend to be a three part series...I'm new at this whole FanFiction thing, so give me any tips or suggestions on what you think about the story would be WONDERFUL! This story follows the eventful adventures of two tributes in the 53rd Annual Hunger Games..I'll be posting chapters on a semi regular basis
1. Chapter 1: Arriving in the Capitol

The 53rd Hunger Games

Everyone hates District 12, and I don't blame them. I mean, Haymitch Abernathy, the guy who won the 50th Hunger Games, came from our district. He killed half of the Careers by himself. Then there's last year's Hunger Games, where our two tributes teamed up and killed a whopping 9 tributes by themselves, before killing each other. So, rumor has it that this year, most districts top priority is killing the District 12 tributes. Killing me, and Spade. We have the "honor and glory" to fight to the death in the 53rd annual Hunger Games. Great. Because, you know, that's what every 14 year old wants to do. Live a cruelly short life, and then die in the Capitol's pet project.  
This is what I think about as the train works its way to the Capitol, to carry me and Spade to our deaths. Haymitch, and the other victor from District 12, Angelina, an elderly woman, sit down on the couch opposite of us.  
"So, what are you two good at, then?" Angelina asks us. Spade and I look up, and have a silent conversation, filled with head bobs and shoulder nudges.  
You go first  
No you, don't be a wimp  
Wimp? I'm 14, and you're 17.  
Fine.  
"Well, I guess that I'll go first, then..." Spade starts. She thinks for a minute, and tells Haymitch and Angelina what she's good at. Turns out, she has experience with throwing darts, as her dad is a drunk who plays darts with his friends on the weekends. When she says this, Haymitch's face goes white, and he looks down, as if remembering something.  
"Well, that could be useful, Spade. Now it's your turn, Connor?" Angelina says cheerfully. Oh crap.  
"I guess that I'll be completely honest here." I start, letting out a long breath before continuing. "I don't really have a weapon of choice, but I run, well, ran track, so I'm fast." I blurt out, the redness on my face painfully obvious. I feel so useless.  
"Oh, sweetheart, that's nothing to be ashamed about. Half the tributes I've mentored didn't have weapon experience, and one of them was Haymitch. And anyway, you can run. That sounds like a hell of a start to me." Angelina tells me. That relaxes me a little. Maybe I could end up like Haymitch. The thought cheers me up.  
And the victor of the 53rd Hunger Games, Connor Ansen!

The Capitol is huge. Me and Spade are gaping out the window at all of the freaks waving and cheering, happy that their entertainment has arrived. You animals, I think. Haymitch surprises us when he says that he can never get over the view.  
"In due time, young Haymitch, in due time." Angelina tells him with a pat on the back. It's weird, seeing a 70 year old woman, and a 20 year old boy, both the only victors from District 12. Two of a kind. Three of a kind if Spade wins. I have almost no confidence that I will win. All I can do is run. Maybe I'll last a few days, but I don't know anything about survival.  
We're escorted off of the train by Haymitch and Angelina, and taken into the training center, a 12 story building with a huge fence around it, and signs that prohibit paparazzi. Good, at least I'll have a few days to myself. Time to come to terms with my death.  
Haymitch and Angelina are very famous in the Capitol. Angelina being the winner of the first Hunger Games; Haymitch the toughest Hunger Games. They fend off the cameras from Spade and I, and I'm thankful.  
When we get into the Training Center, me and Spade are sent to meet our stylists. When I walk into the room, an Avox hands me a towel. Simple instructions. I head over to the shower, and get ready to be made handsome. The showers are weird, and it takes me 20 minutes to figure out how to use it.  
I emerge; smelling like cherries, towel around my waist, hair still wet, and find that my stylist is sitting on the arm of the couch, drinking some purple drink out of an exotic looking cup. She sets it down when she realizes I'm here.  
My stylist has light brown skin, like the color of polished wood, with outrageously fluffy hair, dyed hot pink, and she's wearing a sleeveless shirt with bellbottom pants. On each of her arms are a series of gold dots; 8 on the left side, 2 on the right.  
"So, you're Connor, right?" She says. Her voice is like a purr.  
"Um..yeah.." I reply, kind of crept out by my stylist. But it could be worse. She could've been dyed magenta, with all kinds of piercings, or have a tigers tale and whiskers attached to her body, or a he pretending to be a she...  
"Good. Because I like what I'm seeing" Her voice stops my flow of thoughts. She starts circling me, with a striking resemblance of a cat. I feel so awkward, just standing there, only in a towel.  
Finally, after what seems like forever, but probably less than 2 minutes, my stylist sits back on the arm of the couch, and motions for me to sit down.  
"So, Connor...Angelina has told me you're good at running. And I think I'll incorporate that into your costume tonight for the parade. What do you think?" She tells me pretty flatly.  
"That's good." I reply.  
"Do you have any ideas?"  
Oh god. I don't really care. That's what I wanna say. But that seems rude, and my stylist is at least giving me some control. She's not just handing me a giant coal costume and telling me to wear it. Or starting me on fire. Wait a minute...  
"OH!" I exclaim.  
"What?" She asks eagerly, leaning closer to me.  
"What if I was the piece of coal that ran so fast it started itself on fire?" I proclaim, but then go back to being timid. What if she thinks it's a stupid idea.  
"That is perfect! We can have your chariot go really fast, and you can start on fire then! Oh come here!" She says as she slips off the arm of the couch onto the couch itself and gives me a hug. Then, after a while, she pulls back, and sticks out her hand.  
"I'm sorry, I never said my name. I'm Toffee."


	2. Chapter 2: The Tribute Parade

It turns out that Spade and I are wearing the same thing tonight. Toffee and her stylist consulted with each other, and decided that we should both do the same thing. That way, our chariot can be held back for an extra 30 seconds and then race ahead, during that time our costumes would light on fire. Synthetic fire, of course.  
What does the costume look like? Well, it's in a sense a skin tight black thermal suit. Only my hands, feet, and head are not covered by the suit. My hair, which is naturally brown, has been dyed black for tonight, and is gelled back. As if I had just got done running, and the wind had whipped it back. They are really playing up the whole track star thing.  
Spade looks similar, but she's obviously taller, being 17 and all. And she has more makeup on. It's when we're on the chariot; about to take off does she actually acknowledge I exist.  
"I wanna say thanks for giving your stylist this whole idea." She says pretty flatly, staring ahead. It take me a while to realize she's talking to me.  
"Really? I thought that my idea was pretty stupid when I thought of it." I admit.  
"No, it is actually a really good idea. This way, I'm not something else stupid that had to do with coal." She says. I get a burst of pride. This was my idea. And Spade and Toffee like it. But will the Capitol audience like it? I'm about to find out, as the parade is starting.  
My ears are assaulted with cheers as the crowd sees District 1's chariot. They were wearing some kind of elaborate gem related suit. It looked decent, but it could've been better. It's not another minute before all the chariots are out except for ours.  
And then the 30 extra seconds are up, and we're racing out into the square. I press the button on my suit that Toffee told me to press, and hear the crowd gasp as we're engulfed in flames. I glance over at Spade, and see that even her hair is on fire. Upon further inspection, I find my own hair is on fire! How cool is that? Imagine what the crowd thinks!  
The amount of cheering and screaming is so loud I have to cover my ears. But I'm enjoying it. Everybody loves us. I catch several girls (and some guys) whose eyes flutter and they scream out my name as I stroll by. Roses and other flowers are thrown at us, but they are burned by the synthetic fire. That's weird. It doesn't burn us but burns everything else.  
I see myself on the huge JumboTrons strewn around the square, and I must say, I loo HOT! I mean, I know that some girls at school had some pretty big crushes on me, and now, dressed up like I am, I can see why!  
Spade loves the fame. She's waving and yelling at everyone, and has a wide grin on her face. I'm grinning, too. Who cares that we'll be in the arena within the week? Let's just enjoy the time we have in the Capitol. Worry about that when it's time to worry about it.

After the parade is over, all the chariots are brought over to the stalls on the opposite side of the square, and we have a little time to just stand around awkwardly while the horses and chariots are put away. Some tributes, I'm guessing the Careers, based off of their costumes (The tributes from District 1, and two other, younger kids, dressed like sea gods) are huddled in a group, talking.  
But most people are doing the same thing I'm doing; awkwardly standing, checking out the competition. Except for this one girl, who's off to the side, reading a book. A BOOK! How did she get a book? Can I get a book?  
Before I even know what's happening, I'm sitting down next to her. Before I can ask where she got the book, she starts talking.  
"Can I help you?" She asks, without looking up from her book. I open my mouth to respond, and then think of what to say.  
"Uh...I was just wondering..." I start, but she interrupts me.  
"No. I will not be your girlfriend." She says quite seriously, looking up from her book.  
I blush, since she is quite attractive. She has strawberry colored hair, which I automatically find attractive. Her eyes are a deep blue, with a cold, inquisitive look. I would say she's about 15, based on her height, and the look of her face. "Well, that's n-not what I wa-" I try to explain myself.  
"I know! I just had to." She admits, smiling, even chuckling a little bit.  
After recovering a bit, I continue. "Ok, as I was saying." I wait to make sure she's not gonna interrupt me this time, and continue, "Where did you get that book?"  
"It's my token."  
"What? I didn't know you could do that." I blurt.  
"Well, the Capitol never really did specify what our token could be, as long as it's not weapons. And as far as I know, you can't kill anyone with a book." She says matter-of-factly.  
"You could give someone a wicked paper cut, though." I say, and she bursts into a fit of giggles.  
"Yup, you caught me. I'm gonna paper cut everyone to death. Dang it! Now my master plan is ruined!" She says sarcastically, a big smile on her face.  
"I guess I'm just awes-" I'm cut off by another voice, calling across the room.  
"Amanda! C'mon, we have to head on back to the Training Center!" The District 9 mentor calls, waving his hand for her to follow. And then I recognize him. It's Victor, the Victor (oh the humor) of last year's Games. How can I not see the big, jagged scar that runs along his forehead, and not know who that is? Especially since our own female tribute from District 12 gave it to him during the initial bloodbath. He's 19 now, tall as ever, with the same short, black hair, dark rice colored skin, and the ever present sneer on his face.  
"Well, that's my cue. I'll see ya later, um, I don't think you ever said your name." She, says.  
"Oh! My name's Connor. District 12. And whom do I have the pleasure to be speaking too?" I say the last part in a royal, king like voice. She smiles as she stands up. I stand up, too.  
"Amanda, District 9, thank you very much." She starts. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then." And with that, she's striding across the room.  
"So who's your girlfriend there?" Spade asks me, after some time has passed, snapping me out of my daze. Amanda's already on the elevator now; I was staring into nothingness.  
"Huh? What?"  
"You know, the girl you just got done talking to." She says, slowing down her words as if I was a little kid.  
"Oh, her? She's not my girlfriend. Not even my friend, really." I say defensively. Spade just chuckles. Apparently she's actually talking to me now, like on a full time basis.  
"Really? The way you were staring at her when she was walking away, plus the blush you have on your face right now tell me you think otherwise." She says, teasingly.  
"Oh, you just shush!" I say in a mock embarrassment, but I really am uncomfortable talking about this. Luckily, Angelina finds, us, and escorts us back to our floor in the Training Center, saving me from anymore talk about Amanda with Spade.


End file.
